


On Lestallum: Eros

by JovialHarp5159



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Sex, Lack of experience, M/M, Young Love, no angst for once, no patience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JovialHarp5159/pseuds/JovialHarp5159
Summary: A collaborative effort, and a companion fic to On Lestallum: Agape, by the lovely silverdrift, which you can read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10726287  This is what happens to the other couple, behind closed doors.





	On Lestallum: Eros

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a Gladnis fic that my super awesome amazing beta was writing, she mentioned that it had background Promptis, and I had to write it, cause they have stolen my soul and I live in Promptis hell. I am trash, and I'm not even sorry.

Noctis shifted nervously in the backseat for what must have been the hundredth time, hoping he looked disinterested. He risked a glance up to the rearview mirror, and Prompto bites corner of his lip, tilts his head just so, until sky blue eyes are seeking out a reflection, under heavy pale lashes. Noctis forces himself to swallow hard around the sudden Sahara of his throat. When that doesn’t work, he clears his throat, shifts his weight again, and Prompto smirks the tiniest bit. ‘ _Bastard_.’ Noctis thinks, as he pulls at the neckline of the T-shirt clinging to him. The sweltering heat of Lestallum was starting to get to him. Though weirdly enough, it hadn’t been bothering him earlier. He shook his head, and wrote it off as nothing.

Ignis sighs, as Finally, thank the Gods, finally, the car pulls into the parking lot, and Noctis fidgets for just a fraction of a second, before hauling himself out of the backseat. _‘This is fine. They aren’t going to know_ ’. He mentally runs through the same pep talk that he’d been giving himself for the last two weeks. He’s been trying to handle this tactfully. Trying to keep his emotions in check. But, a few stolen kisses behind a caravan, and awkward grinding in a shared sleeping bag while your two best friends and crown appointed babysitters slept less than three feet from you do not the flames of lust smother, and between the blazing glances, and furtive touches that Prompto has been sending his way all day, Noct’s so turned on that if Ignis deigns to say anything about it, he might just snap, pull Prompto into their room, and snidely invite Ignis to watch, if he was so concerned.

He takes a quick pace up the winding cobblestone streets, and smirks to himself when he realizes that Prompto’s close behind him, abandoning his cool, aloof flirtations for ought right giddy excitement. Noctis reaches the lobby before the rest of the party, and notices, absently, that his hands are shaking as he forks over 600 gil, enough for two single rooms. Noctis had signed them up for a particularly hard hunt, and sold every scrap of less useful items, in order to keep Ignis, ever the frugal one from balking at the price. He could only hope that in this moment, it will have been enough.

“Two Rooms, Noct?” The advisor asks, his voice reaching a pitch that wasn’t quite surprise, but something that closely resembled it. Noctis tosses his hair out of his face, and shrugs noncommittally.

“Yeah, I’m really tired. And I don’t want Gladio’s snoring keeping me awake.” Gladio crosses his arms, and levels him with a look. They both know he doesn’t snore. But given the saccharine glances that the older pair have been trading for the last few days, Noct was sure enough that no one was going to call his bluff. He’d almost bet money.  Gladio huffs, and glances down thoughtfully, wearing the visage of someone duty bound to argue a point that he couldn’t care less about.  When he speaks, his tone drawls in its’ usual manner, though it does ring with at least a touch of concern.

“It’ll be harder to protect you, if we’re separated.” Notcis smirks.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll have Prompto, and I can take care of myself.” _‘Though hopefully I won’t have to’_ his subconscious adds unhelpfully, and he groans inwardly at the awful double entendre. Maybe the blonde really had started to rub off on him. Ignis’s steady voice cuts in, thankfully, preventing Noct from torturing himself with more dollar store romance dialog.

“You really are quite stubborn, Prince Noctis. But if you insist…” Ignis sighs for flair, and Noct only nods, heading off down the hall for the room he’d claimed as theirs.

Prompto breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the door closed, but was forced to quickly reclaim the air in a needy gasp, as Noctis crashed his lips into his own. All of the want that he’d barely been containing over the day pools hot and heavy in the pit of his stomach, and he whines, very much against his will. Noctis pulls back a bit, smirks at his best friend, and dives back in for another kiss. It’s a bad kiss, all things considered. The angle is off, so that he’s kissing the side of his mouth more than anything, and he’s leaning in too far, pressing his chin and his nose into Promptos face, but he can feel it in every molecule of his body, and he wants more. He trails his hands up noctis’s forearms, and grips lightly at his wrists, tipping his head to the side, for a better approach. The new angle is better, their mouths line up more, and Prompto's breathing cumbrously in seconds flat, bursts of inferno blazing from every place their bodies touch, provoking a painfully hard erection, now straining at the vexing seam of his courl print jeans.

Needy, ever so slightly clammy fingers, skirt at the hem of Promptos tank top, and he takes the hint, moves to tug it off over his head, and realizes about halfway through, that he’s still wearing his heavy vest. He growls quietly, and shrugs that off of his shoulders, peppering too hard, sloppy kisses along Nocts jawline, to aid the transition. Noctis shivers as Prompto bites at his neck, and his fingers return to the tank top, this time grabbing a fist full of the offending scrap of fabric. Prompto chuckles breathily.

“That impatient?” He tugs the shirt off, tosses into the corner, and Noctis’s hands are on his bare flesh in an instant. The raven haired prince blushes, and looks down, his movements faltering, and eventually stopping altogether, as his hands drop awkwardly to his side.

“Like you’re not?” He juts his chin out, looks down at Prompto through dark lashes, in the way he does when he feels challenged. His voice pitches up at the last second, and despite his body language, the words seem an honest question. Prompto takes a step closer, looks into his eyes, and sees nerves.

“I am. I… I want you.” He stutters, feeling his face heat up in a blush. Noctis nods, fiddles with his shirt, and shifts his weight.

“uh… b-bed?” He asks the plush carpet of the floor. Prompto pats his shoulder in a way that’s less ‘inamorato’ and more ‘bro’, and he hates himself for ruining the moment, but Noctis swallows thickly, tries to muddle through the task of kicking off his shoes and stumbling toward the bed at the same time, and Prompto finds his breath catching for reasons he didn’t even understand. He kicks off his own shoes and follows Noctis, laying down beside him nervously. Noctis stares for a moment or two, his wide blue eyes searching, contemplative. Prompto squirms under the weight of the gaze.

“Do you… not want to?” he picks at a bit of fluff on the bedspread, to avoid looking at his best friends face. 

“No, No I do!”

Prompto nods and trails a hand up Noct’s arm, kissing his feverish lips gently. That one simple kiss is enough to reignite the weird, buzzy energy between them, and Prompto gets impatient, and tugs at Noctis’s shirt. The prince whines, rips the shirt off and tosses it somewhere for them to find later. He shifts his weight, so that he’s in Promptos lap, and grinds his hips down gently, moaning outright at the friction. Prompto gasps loudly, and his hands come to rest on Noctis’s exposed ribcage.

“D-do that again?” he asks in a hushed whisper, and Noctis complies, earning him a moan for his efforts. They continue like this for a bit, but the movement’s not quite right, there’s more pressure than friction now, and Prompto aches to be free of the unforgiving denim. Noctis must mirror his feelings, because he backs up, fumbles with the button of the others jeans. As it’s undone, and the zipper’s slid down, Prompto sighs relief, but shudders as Noctis tugs the rough cloth down his thighs, exposing him to the open air. His underwear get caught up in the band of the jeans, and whether its by design, or by accident, Prompto isn’t complaining. He watches the descent of the cloth, dumbfounded, until Noctis slides the bundle all the way to his ankles and finally completely off. He’s breathing heavily, and staring directly at Noctis who is blushing fiercely.

“What?” he pouts, rocking back over his heels. Prompto smirks, and pulls him in for a rough kiss, rolling him over, pressing him down softly into the mattress.

“You’re overdressed.” He growls, his voice cracking in the middle, and he curses himself silently again. Noctis opens his mouth to say something, but it disappears into the space between them as nothing more than a needy whine, as prompt unbuttons and unzips his jeans, raking them down and off quickly. Prompto smirks, and tosses the ill gained pants over his shoulder and onto the floor, somewhere out of reach. Noctis, not to be outdone, reaches up and curls nimble fingers around the head of Promptos already leaking dick. He smirks smugly, when the blonds eyes slam shut, and his breathing stutters, at the gentle tug that he provides.

Prompto makes a quiet indignant sound at the back of his throat, and leans in to bite at Noctis’s neck, moving one hand to trail gentle touches across his stomach, leading down to his thighs, back up across his sac, and further down. Noctis gasps loudly, and has to fight the urge to cant his hips lower, his grip on Prompto slackening at the forced divide in attention.

“Don’t tease.” Noctis whines, which only earns him a chuckle from the blond whos eyes are now narrowed, scanning the area around them.

“Who had the lube last?” Noctis screws his face up in concentration, trying to remember.

“You? Wait, me. Wait… No, yeah, me, it’s in my pocket.”

Prompto sighs and hops off of the bed, pacing across the room to the lost pair of pants, digging around in the pockets until he finds the small bottle in question. Noctis stares at him, breathing heavily the entire way back. Prompto is torn between the duality of wanting to both smirk smugly, and cover himself. Noctis reaches out and grabs his hand lightly as he rejoins him on the bed, smiling wanly, like he was fighting back a wave of terror.

“Are you sure you want to?” Prompto asks, and  Noctis rolls his eyes, and hits him on the shoulder, readjusting himself, to pull the blond closer.

“Yes! Gods, Prompto, yes.” The blonde nods, and flips the cap of lube, upending the bottle, and accidentally squeezing too hard, drenching not only his hand, but the sheets under them as well. The scent of fake, too chemical strawberry wafted up, and he sighed, focusing his eyes again, on Noctis’s. he opened his mouth so speak, but the prince underneath him narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“Yes, I’m ready.” Prompto smirked, and moved a finger back to the warmth of Noct’s entrance, slicked fingers moving in gentle circles. He had scarcely touched Noctis, but his head was thrown back, eyes closed, and a quiet moan slipping from his lips. He looked so incredibly debauched that Prompto has to look away from his face, as he slides his finger in.  The heat is incredible, and he nearly whines, as he wiggles around gently, attempting to stretch the tight ring of muscle. When Noctis begins to curl more into the touches, and his sounds are more moans than whimpers, Prompto adds a second finger. He allows Noctis just a moment to adjust before he’s moving again, at a quicker speed. Noct tenses, but relaxes in time, before, again, attempting to eek out more movement from his partner.

“E-enough.” He says breathlessly. Prompto moves to argue, but Noctis whines and paws at him. “Prompto, please!” that needy tone sends a new shock of need through him, and he scrambles up, closing the distance quickly, and lavishing Nocts neck and collarbones with gentle kisses, as he positions himself accordingly, and dumps yet more lube onto himself. Noctis captures his mouth in a bruising kiss, slender fingers coming to rest in a shock of messy hair, coated in too much gel.

Prompto moves slowly, pushing forward inch by inch. They haven’t prepped enough, really, and it shows in the dichotomy of pleasure and pain written across Noctis’s face. He’s just about to ask if it’s too much, when Noctis raises a hand, curls it over his hip, and tugs. Prompto starts to move faster, and it feels amazing, fuck, it really does, but he can’t put the thought that he might be hurting his lover out of his head. His pace has become frantic at this point, and he thrusts harder than he means to, and Noctis squeezes his eyes closed, and cries out loudly. Prompto pulls out quickly, and peppers gentle kisses over the others shoulder.

“I’m so sorry!” he whispers, and Noctis whines. “Are you ok?” Noctis whines again, and when Prompto pulls back to look at him, he can’t quite meet his eyes.

“That wasn’t… a bad sound.”

“Oh. _Oh_.” He quickly gets the idea, and moves back, having to start the whole awkward thing again. Soon enough, their bodies are moving in concert, and the pair are matching one another moan for moan. It’s too soon, and it’s embarrassing, but it’s them, and it’s kind of perfect. Prompto snaps his hips forward in a frantic, nonrhythmic way.

“N-Noct…”  he whines out, and the prince nods, pumping at his own member erratically.  
“I-I know, Fuck, Prompto!” The princes body tightens around him, in that moment of esctacy, and it’s all he needs to reach his own climax, momentarily seeing white as he spills himself into his partner. They rock together for a few more beats, each riding out their own high. When they’re able to move again, they collapse into a loose pile on the bed, all elbows, and knees, and sweat slicked skin. They need to get up and clean off, change the sheets, or at least make an effort to move out of the most soiled spots, but somehow they find themselves staring at each other wordlessly, blushing and shivering until their breathing returns to normal, then more even and deep as they drift off to a blissful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hand out with me on Tumblr, @Thejovialkynnadyg-ray! Sometimes I do things!


End file.
